Kiss Me Tender
by snoozin81
Summary: She no longer tastes like bubblegum but instead of promises—of a life he can't wait to live.  five kisses that Finn and Santana share


I.

The first time they kiss it isn't in a seedy motel on the edge of Lima's crack district but on a football field in the center of town. They're twelve and his Pop Warner team has just won the division two championships thanks in large part to the perfect pass he makes to Puck (they've been working on it for weeks).

Santana's cheering on the side lines with the mini Cheerios until the game ends and then she's running on to the field—_straight towards him_. He smiles awkwardly, heat settling in his cheeks as he toes the dirt.

"Great game," she gushes throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him.

Her eyes are sparkling and she's smiling the most beautiful smile he's ever seen—that's what he's thinking when she leans in and places a soft kiss at the corner of his mouth. It catches him off guard and he turns toward her in surprise but she hasn't stepped back and neither has he so his lips kind of slide across hers. It's a little weird—this accidental kiss—but she doesn't push him away so he closes his eyes and enjoys the taste of her bubblegum flavored lip gloss.

II.

Brittany's parents throw her a big party for her sixteenth birthday—nothing MTV style but there's cake and an empty glass bottle spinning in the center of a circle mad up of his closest friends. He bites his lip and hopes the bottle lands on Santana despite the fact that she's sort of dating Puck and he's definitely dating Quinn. There's still an attraction—small because she's gotten really scary since making the high school cheerleading squad but it's still there, just below the surface.

It lands on Puck and there's _no way_ he's kissing a dude. He doesn't care if they've been friends since the age of three.

"Fuck no," Puck protests shaking his head vehemently.

"So it's okay for Brittany and Santana to be barbed into kissing on another but not for you and Finn?" Quinn questions narrowing her eyes in Puck's direction and Finn doesn't get why they hate each other but they fight _all_ the time.

"Uh, yeah." Puck says it like it should be totally obvious—it isn't, Finn's totally confused. "Two chicks kissing is totally hot, two dudes is just plain gay."

Finn nods because that makes sense and because there's no way he's getting roped into kissing Puck just so Quinn can prove a point.

"Besides, rules state that if it lands on another dude it goes to the chick on the left."

Finn can feel his eyes bulge because he knows Quinn's going to be pissed. She has this weird competition thing going on with Santana, who's conveniently located to Puck's left. Puck knows this too and based on the smug look he's giving Quinn it's a pretty safe bet to say that _that_ rule is completely made up.

"Did it just magically appear in your imaginary rule book?"

Puck shrugs nonchalantly, crooking his lips into a satisfied smirk because he knows he's won. Quinn's not going to show her hand—not going to admit that she's jealous of Santana Lopez anymore than Santana would admit that she's jealous of Quinn.

Santana sighs loudly drawing the attention of the entire room. "Are we doing this or what?" she drawls in a tone that's clearly disinterested. "I'm getting board."

He frowns because she doesn't seem to care too much about their pending kiss. She definitely doesn't have sweaty palms or a lump in her throat like he does. It stings a little but he ignores it, leaning into the circle to meet her halfway. Their lips touch and she still tastes like bubblegum but the kiss is short lived because Puck's hand slips underneath her skirt and she jerks away.

"You're a jerk," she says shoving at Puck's shoulder but she's laughing too so she must not be too mad.

"What?" Puck asks in a voice that Finn knows is supposed to sound innocent (he's used it on Finn's mom before, after breaking a lamp, or tracking mud into the house) but really it just comes out sounding kind of seductive. It's always made Finn feel a little bit uncomfortable.

Santana doesn't seem to mind. She scoots closer to Puck and settles a hand on his thigh. Finn's kind of disappointed. He glances at Quinn who seems to have shifted her anger from Puck to him and crap he really doesn't want to fight about a stupid game of Spin-the-bottle.

III.

It doesn't mean anything—it can't. His life is already _way_ too complicated—he still has feelings for Quinn and he's falling for Rachel and they're both dating other people. There's just no room in his romantic life for anymore drama.

He says it out loud because hearing it might make it true. "I don't feel anything because it didn't _mean_ anything." It doesn't help and he regrets the words the second they leave his mouth.

She shifts away, tossing the covers back and he thinks maybe she wanted to hear something else so he agrees to take her for burgers. It's awkward and uncomfortable but they make idle conversation that doesn't totally suck and he catches a small glimmer of the girl he had a crush on all through middle school—the one who isn't completely scary in a Cheerios' uniform.

IV.

It doesn't feel like Christmas, not with everyone all depressed over Kurt transferring to Dalton and the situation between him and Rachel. As co-captain of the glee club it's his responsibility to turn things around so he heads to the tree lot after school.

"How about this one Papi?"

He hears her voice before he sees her and he thinks about ducking behind an oversized tree because he's pretty sure he should be pissed at her but he's not. He's hurt—heartbroken, really, but that's because of Rachel and the way she automatically made out with Puck in order to get back at him for sleeping with Santana. Plus he kind of provoked her, saying she didn't matter and stuff.

She matters—she always has.

He steps around a beautiful Douglas Fur and into the next isle way. She's standing with her family and he smiles meekly when she looks up and sees him. She wiggles her fingers in a slight wave and tells her father she'll be right back before joining him.

"So hold up," she says, a teasing smile causing dimples to dent both of her cheeks, "don't you usually get your tree the day after Thanksgiving?"

He chuckles and nods because after eight years of running in the same circles they're bound to know a few intimate details about one another—he's still kind of surprised though that that's one of them.

"So what are you doing here?" she asks fingering the pines on a near by Evergreen.

He shrugs idly and offers her a lopsided grin. "I thought maybe I could get a tree for the choir room but they're all kind of pricy."

"Yeah," she agrees, glancing back over her shoulder to where her family has decided on the tree she picked out. "Well…let me know if you find one. I've got an in on a crap load of decorations."

"Mirar hija muérdago," her father calls out pointing above them.

Their heads move in unison as they look up to see the spring of mistletoe attached to the light post they've wondered towards. He swallows roughly as their eyes meet and she shakes her head like he's being a complete idiot before rising up on her tip toes to kiss his cheek. It's the most innocent kiss they've ever shared but it ignites a long dormant spark in the pit of his stomach.

He watches as she makes her way back to her family, looking back at him only long enough to roll her eyes. He laughs, breathing in the fresh scent of snow and pine and he thinks maybe Christmas really is salvageable.

V.

He still doesn't know how to tie a tie and it doesn't help that his fingers are shaking from nervousness. "Dude, would you relax!" Puck says taking the confusing strip of fabric from his hands and replacing it with a clip on. "This can't be anymore painful than when she put your nuts in a vice grip—besides there's still time to back out."

He narrows his eyes at his friend because the neutering jokes are getting old. It's been five years since he officially started dating Santana and he may be whipped but it's totally worth it.

"I love her man," he offers, a huge smile stretching across the expanse of his face. "I don't see that changing."

"Good," Puck says smoothing a hand over his newly coifed Mohawk (Finn really hopes he grows out of that soon). "Then let's get you hitched."

He follows Puck out to the pulpit, fidgeting with the lapels on his suite until the piano music starts. When he sees her for the first time he's awestruck. She's gorgeous—the white dress she's wearing is a stark contrast to her dark skin and it causes his mouth to go dry. His palms are sweating too and he hasn't felt this anxious since he was sixteen and postponing the inevitable in a dingy motel bathroom.

The sermon is short to keep Brittany from falling asleep and because neither of them are really any good with words. Besides, it's the kiss that matters and those have only gotten better over the years.

She no longer tastes like bubblegum but instead of promises—of a life he can't wait to live.


End file.
